


Money

by Savorysavery



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Sex, Pegging, Penetration, Public Sex, Romance, Sex Worker, Sexual Content, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, one-sided romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:06:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savorysavery/pseuds/Savorysavery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Mystery Skulls' "Money"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On Your Belly

**Summary:** Money don’t matter if you’re ha, ha, ha hot.

 **Genre:** Romance, Smut

 **Rated:** M

 **Warnings:** Sex, Oral Sex, Penetration, Public Sex, One-Sided Romance

 

Author’s Note: This is a short series of drabbles about a bad girl version of Korra who isn’t all that nice… or so it seems.

* * *

 

 

 

When Korra came around, Mako was always on his stomach.

 

His hips, model thin, with jutting bone and smooth, sculpted curves, were canted, buttocks up in the air, with Korra’s favorite navy blue dildo sliding between his cheeks.

 

It was how he liked it: he loved the sensation of her forcing his face into the pillows, of her hands on his hips. It made him feel delightfully weak, putting him in his place with each bob of his rock hard cock.

 

When he came –hard, messy, and sticky, so much that he’d begun to ruin sets of sheets on a bi-monthly basis– he’d fall forward, with her sliding out of him quick and easy. _If only she’d kiss him when it ended_. But Mako wasn’t dumb: Korra would never be his girlfriend. What they had was… well, illegal for an officer, but spirits, if it wasn’t good.

 

“That’ll be two-fifty, like always,” Korra said. She was standing now, undoing the harness and sliding it off her muscular legs. Mako could hear her stepping into her heels: tall, red bottom black shoes that made her sky high. Untouchable, really.

 

“It’s in my wallet,” he sighed, rolling to the side. A bit of come squished against his side, but he didn’t care. “You know you can always stay-”

 

“I know that I can’t.” Korra waved three bills: two crisp hundred yuan notes, and a fifty. Her skirt was adjusted, pencil shape hugging her wide hips, hem ending at mid-thigh. “Thanks. Same time in two weeks?”

 

Mako could only nod as she exited his apartment.


	2. Minute Man

Tahno never last long enough for Korra to truly feel satisfied.

 

He was a one-pump chump, all talk and hardly any gumption, just an ego that made Korra gag hard. But his wallet was fat, and Korra was perfectly fine cherry picking when she could.

 

“Oh, _Tahno_ ,” she moaned, arm flung across her face. Beneath, her ice blue eyes were bored, nearly to the point of tears. “Give it to me _hard_!” He did: well, as hard as he could. Surely he was exhausted. Korra’s throat sure was.

 

That was always the ticket with Tahno: blatant flattery. Sure enough, a minute later, he was grunting, hips ramming into her for a few last pumps as he cooed her name over and over again. She sighed, faking her own orgasm and shuddering for show. _Gotta earn my keep, after all_ , she thought. That brought a genuine smirk to her face.

“Three,” Korra said, a minute later. Tahno nodded, placing three hundred yuan notes in her hand. She smiled and leaned up, lips only a few millimeters from his.

 

“Thanks. Now, get out of me so I can leave. The better to see me soon, right?”


	3. Tastes Like honey

Opal was a favorite of Korra’s.

 

The girl was sweet: blindly innocent at times, a bit of an airhead, but sweet, and rather talented. It was part of what endeared her to Korra and kept her coming back for more.

 

And flexible. So _damn_ flexible.

 

Korra had her twisted all around: Opal’s legs were over her shoulder, and her arms were threaded through the metal headboard. “K-Korra,” Opal was whimpering. “M-More p-please…”

 

Korra happily oblidged her, setting her tongue to lick faster at Opal’s sticky crotch. In its own way, eating out Opal was a bit addictive: she tasted sweet, like honey. _Chalk it up to a good personality_ , Korra thought, sucking on Opal’s clit.

 

Opal came hard, and Korra gave her inner thigh a hard bite, chuckling when Opal shuddered. “Thank you,” Opal whispered after a moment. “It’s in the envelope under the doormat.” Two hundred yuan, all Korra’s for some cunnilingus. She winked, grateful for the pay. Opal blushed and looked away, slowly coming down off her high.

 

Korra removed herself from Opal’s bed, running a hand through her hair. “Thanks for the memories. You’re a gem.” She chuckled at the last part. “And thanks for buying this month’s groceries.”


	4. Public Display of Blowing

Bolin always had Korra meet her in alleys.

 

“It’s the adventure,” he admitted after the third time. He was a voyeur: Korra didn’t care. All she wanted was the four hundred yuan he was willing to lay down for a back alley blowjob.

 

He was in her mouth right now, salty and musky and rubbery, pants on the ground in a heap with his Nuktuk printed boxers. Honestly, Korra wasn’t a fan of sucking cock, not truly, but bills needed to be paid, and Bolin would _always_ be up for her sucking him off.

 

“Do you like it?” Bolin groaned, head lolling back. Korra gave a hard suck, fluttering her eyelashes and whimpering. “Fuck…”

 

She kept at it, licking, sucking, and gagging hard until Bolin spilled himself down her throat. To a degree, Korra actually _did_ like this: there was a sense of adventure in doing this right behind a restaurant, or near a café. She could _always_ get caught, but they were careful never to be seen.

 

She forced herself to swallow, promising that she’d get a hot cup of black coffee to wash down the lump of jizz at the back of her throat. “Pay up, dude,” she said, smirking. Bolin collected himself, quickly yanking his pants back up.

 

“Here you go,” he murmured, cheeks coloring bright red. Four hundred big ones, all in eight fifty yuan notes.

 

“Perfect. See you in a new alleyway after payday.” She waved and sauntered off, heading towards the scent of coffee up the road.


	5. Yank My Hair

Kuvira was Korra’s oddest patron.

 

They never did anything too sexual: just some biting, groping, and occasionally Kuvira would burry her face between Korra’s legs for a few minutes, lapping at her clit and eating her out until she forced herself to orgasm.

 

Yet they _did_ engage in something odd.

 

“Just tug,” Kuvira said. “It won’t come out.”

 

“Are you sure?” Korra replied. “It _is_ hair.”

 

“Exactly. It’s resilient. Now, do you want this one-fifty or not?” Kuvira shot back, raising a curious eyebrow.

 

 _Yeah_ , Korra thought. _I do_.

 

She wound her hand into Kuvira’s long brown hair and gripped. “Ready?” Kuvira simply nodded, bracing herself against her sofa’s armrest.

 

Korra gave a sharp, hard tug and Kuvira’s lips parted, producing a rather erotic moan. Korra tried again, giggling softly, and Kuvira’s reaction was the same: pure bliss.

 

Things devolved from there, to Korra tugging as she fucked Kuvira, right there on her floor. “How shameful,” Korra mused. “Don’t you have a husband?”

 

“Yeah,” Kuvira managed, hips canting back to meet Korra in desperate jerks. “But he’s not here right now.”

 

They fucked like that for ten more minutes: Korra ramming Kuvira with her trusty navy blue dildo, Kuvira turning into a pool of whimpering woman. By the time they were done, Korra was sure she had performed well enough to get another fifty out of Kuvira.

 

“That was… good,” Kuvira said, climbing back onto the couch. She had pulled up her pants and her sticky underwear, composing herself rather quickly.

 

“Good enough for two hundred?” Korra asked, smirking.

 

“If you’ll come back next week,” Kuvira replied.

 

“Sounds good. Nice to make a client of you,” Korra said, pocketing the money. She buttoned up her jeans and adjusted her tank-top, not evening bothering with her bra, which still lay on the floor. She nudged it closer to Kuvira’s foot, chuckling. “Here’s some insurance so that I’ll come back around.”


	6. Money

 

Asami Sato never paid Korra when she came and visited.

 

Of course, Korra never asked for payment.

 

They had something different: it wasn’t _just_ sex or fucking or lust. Sometimes, all they’d do is sit around Asami’s apartment, cooking, chatting, and watching movies. She was the only patron that Korra never regularly serviced.

 

And she liked it, enough that Asami made her want to give up her patrons.

 

“Hey,” Korra said one evening while they were sitting on the couch. Asami was baking: moon peach crumble pie, topped with hand-whipped cream.

 

“Yeah?” Asami called back, pulling the desert from the oven. The smell of honey and fruit wafted into the living room, making Korra’s stomach gurgle loudly. Asami giggled, the sound filling Korra with warmth.

 

“Why don’t you pay me?” Korra asked.

 

“Because you don’t pay the person you want to be with,” Asami answered. The sound of plates clinking together filled the silence, soon replaced by the buzz of a blender. It cut a minute later, and Asami spoke once more. “Love doesn’t have a cost.”

 

“Oh,” Korra whispered, tucking her legs beneath her. Her cheeks colored and she suddenly felt like hiding. “You do know I sleep with other people?”

 

“Yes, I do.” Asami smiled, sighing softly. “That’s still not stopping me from treating you like a human though.” Her voice grew closer and when Korra looked up, she had a plate extended towards her, with a huge chunk of crumble and loads of whipped cream.

 

“Oh,” Korra whispered, taking a bite of the crumble. With every chew it grew bigger and harder, causing her jaw to ache.

 

“I can wait for you to figure things out for _you_ ,” Asami stressed the last word. “Now, how’s that crumble?”


End file.
